not while i'm around
by ashinsnow
Summary: a brother's love... please read & review
1. Chapter 1

_Nothing's gonna harm you  
Not while I'm around  
Demons are prowling everywhere  
Nowadays  
I'll send 'em howling I don't care  
I got ways_

No one's gonna hurt you  
No one's gonna dare  
Others can desert you  
Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there

Demons will charm you with a smile, for a while  
But in time, nothing can harm you  
Not while I'm around  


the falling raindrops on the roof of the car have finally lulled Sam to a restless sleep. fearful of closing his eyes, fearful of seeing death, Sam hasn't slept in days. i haven't talked much. my mind is on dad- i know i followed his order, but is it right? has anything been right. glancing at Sam i knows something has been right- protecting my brother. life is solid and simple when i focus on Sam. this so-called life is livable. i turn the radio down- Sam is finally sleeping and i want to keep it that way for as long as possible. so i drive and stare and close my mind to worry and analyzation and regret. just drive.

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Dean thinks i'm sleeping. i'm not. my eyes are tired so i'll rest them, but not my mind. i'm afraid i'll have a nightmare- of dad… dead or someone. Dean is tired, he shouldn't be driving. i can see the pain in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed deep in contemplation. i find myself longing for the smart-ass Dean, the Dean that ruffles my hair and pokes fun. instead Dean has circles under his eyes and a haggard scab across the bridge of his nose and forehead. splitting him down the middle. just like his heart.

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one bed- terrific. motels suck. for all intensive purposes… yah they work, but they make you depressed. maybe it's the retro wallpaper and disgusting moldy carpet or maybe it's the fact that the beds are just hard enough that when you're this tired you don't care. i don't care. Sam putzes around the room for a while before asking me if i'm gonna shower. to be honest i don't know if i can get up from where i'm sprawled so i tell him to go ahead. he rubs his head and stares at me. "Dean." just the way he says it annoys me. he tells me i should ice my shoulder. i actually had forgotten the injury i had sustained from the last gig. nothing life threatening. i tell him to stop being a fucking mother hen. he looks away, hurt. i don't mean to hurt him. i just can't take this, him, now. i just need to close my eyes. i jus need to….

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i watch Dean fall asleep in front of my eyes. good. he needs rest. and i need a rest from his short temper. i know he doesn't mean what he says in these moods, but that doesn't mean i wanna hear it. the shower is hot and hard. i stay in too long and when i get out my body is screaming to sit down. i lay next to Dean and watch his chest rise and fall. he coughs suddenly and turns toward me flopping his left arm over my stomach. i almost laugh. sighing i pull up the sheet, maybe i'll finally give in to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the change in structure… decided it would be easier to narrate lol. Please review, comment give me ideas etc. It's appreciated!**

Sam awoke many hours later, peacefully relieved that his sleep had been dream-free. Wiping his eyes he turned to glance at the clock. 11:00- he had slept for nearly 14 hours. Dean lay sprawled on his stomach, not moving, his head nestled practically on Sam's shoulder. Sam smiled to himself as he gently nudged Dean's head back onto his pillow and shimmied out from under his outstretched arm. Yawning, Sam pulled on his pants and decided to get breakfast from the gas station only a mile or so up the road. He grabbed Dean's wallet and keys and exited the room soundlessly.

Dean woke-up 10 minutes later in mind-numbing pain from his swollen shoulder. Wincing he stumbled out of bed, and realized Sam's absence. His keys were gone. This most likely meant Sam was getting food. Sam and food were never far apart. Dean's chuckle turned into a pained groan as he stretched out his right arm gingerly.

"Son of a bitch." Ice would have been the answer last night, now he just had to cope with a swollenly inept arm.

"Hey, you're up." Sam greeted coming through the door. "How's the shoulder?"

"Terrific." Dean muttered as he started towards the bathroom. "What did you get to eat?"

"Umm… a couple of those pre-wrapped muffin deals. Do you like blueberry?"

"Sure. I think I'd eat anything right now." Dean stepped into the bathroom closing the door.

"Hey, shouldn't we just hang out today? I mean, we shouldn't try to make it Traverse City, with your injury and all."

"There's nothing wrong with my shoulder. And yes we are gonna drive up there today," came the muffled reply from behind the bathroom door.

"Fine, but could you at least fill me in a little on what's going on in that mind of yours?"

Dean stepped out of the bathroom wiping his wet hands on his shirt front. "We're going to the State Hospital in Traverse City, MI. I got a call from an acquaintance that several of the people involved in the renovation have gone missing."

"Another mental hospital… great. The last time went so well."

"It'll be fine Sammy, just don't shoot me this time."

"Dean I…"

"I'm kidding, okay? Just relax. It's a beautiful area, on the lake, beaches, hot girls in bikinis… you'll love it."

"Dude, its March. There aren't gonna be any girls on the beach."

"Yah and if you don't shut up, by the time we get there it'll be June."

Sam shook his head, smiling. Good old Dean, back to normal. A State Hospital? They could handle it. Besides, it's not like all mental institutions had crazy doctors that took over your mind. Nahhh… it would be fine. Just fine.


	3. Chapter 3

The impala raced along the rain-slicked road, tires skidding at the curves. Dean drove like a man with a mission and that's exactly what he was. Inside the car ACDC blared from the radio, Dean tapped the wheel along to the beat occasionally joining in on the chorus with his surprisingly clear singing voice. Sam rubbed his forehead angrily and stared out the rain-streaked window.

"BACK IN BLACK….!"

"Dean, I swear if I have to listen to this song one more time…"

"Chill Sammy, you know it's grown on you."

"Sure, let's just say it has. Still, why can't you compromise and maybe just listen to normal music for once?"

"And what do you consider _normal_ music Sam?"

"Okay, umm how bout some Dave Matthew's, Hootie and the Blowfish…"

"Right… ya know what I'll make you a deal. When I die, you can listen to whatever you want."

"Dude that's not funny."

Dean just laughed, a loud ringing laugh that transitioned smoothly into him belting out the chorus. Looking at Sam with a smirk, he turned the volume up on the radio and revved the engine, as the car sped down the highway.

Three hours later, Dean smoothly pulled the car into a parking space outside of the renovated portion of Building 50; the infamous largest section of the sprawling area that had once been the Michigan State Hospital. The building was beautiful in its own ominous way- it was made of sand colored stone, weathered by many years, sweeping four stories high and capped with several piercing turrets. This half of Building 50 had recently been renovated and now served as several offices as well as a small coffee shop. In the coffee shop, Dean and Sam approached a small table where an elderly, eccentric-looking man, with long hair and horn-rimmed glasses sat sipping tea.

"Mr. Landen." Dean greeted with an outstretched hand.

"Dean. We meet again."

"This is my brother Sam."

"You look like her. Your Mother I mean, you have her eyes," Mr. Landen said as his eyes appraised Sam.

"Umm, thanks," Sam mumbled, slightly taken aback by the man's blunt comment.

"So, Mr. Landen," Dean said as he sat. "When you called you said that several of the renovators had gone missing. Were they renovating this building? No offense, but this doesn't seem very haunted," Dean quipped as he glanced around at the modernly furnished coffee shop.

"No, Dean. The renovators were working on one of the smaller buildings, further up the road. It was originally the living quarters for the most clinically insane- the males were in one wing and the females the other and they were joined by a kitchen and eating area of sorts."

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, there was a fire… well a long time ago. Did any patients die in this fire? Could this be the catalyst for the ghost's unrest?" Dean asked.

"You've done your research Dean. I'm impressed," Mr. Landen smiled.

"Yeah, me too Dean. 'Catalyst,' that's a really big word." Sam jabbed laughingly.

"Shut up Sammy." Dean grunted as he made a move to smack the back of his head. Sam was too quick though and ducked under Dean's arm laughing as he danced out of Dean's reach.

Mr. Landen watched the two boys smiling. In their twenties and still acting like they had years ago when he had known their father.

"Back on topic, yes Dean I believe that the fire could be the reason for the recent disappearances," Mr. Landen exclaimed calling the brothers attention back to the matter at hand.

"Well, then I guess the next step is to check the place out. Mr. Landen I appreciate your time, I will call if anything comes up," Dean said as he rose to shake his hand.

"As always it's a pleasure, Dean. Sam nice to see you again."

Sam and Dean exited the coffee shop and walked back towards the Impala, Sam deep in thought.

"Dean, why did Mr. Landen say 'nice to see you again?'" Sam asked with a confused look on his face.

"Oh, well he used to know Dad when we were kids I guess. I don't really remember him, but apparently he was around occasionally, helping Dad out. Apparently in his day, he was quite the ghost hunter." Dean replied swinging into the car.

"Really. And he knew Mom?

"I guess Sammy. Anyway how bout we go grab something to eat before we hit the hospital. I'm starving and I'm not about to sit in a coffee shop and eat scones. I need some real food."

"Ha, okay just like you listen to _real _music. Dean, are you unsure of your sexuality?" Sam joked as he smiled his brilliant dimpled smile that made Dean even more annoyed.

"You know what Sammy? Just for that…" and Dean moved quickly, managing this time to slap Sam hard on the back of his head.

"Ow, you asshole," Sam groaned.

Dean smiled victoriously and sped back onto the road, singing along as always to ACDC.

**So… Chapter 3. What do ya'll think? It's much more fun to write humor than drama, but I think there will be some later on. Thoughts and comments are appreciated as always.**


	4. Chapter 4

Night had fallen and an eerie silence had settled over the wooded grounds of the State Hospital. Both pleasantly full, Dean and Sam now stood at the trunk of the impala parked half hidden among brush, in front of the building they were about to enter. Both brothers rifled through the trunk picking and choosing the various weapons they would bring with them. Sam picked a small handgun and a knife that he tucked into the back of his boot- Dean went for heavier firepower with a hefty shotgun.

"Dean, what exactly do you intend to do if and when we encounter this ghost?" Sam prodded quietly.

"Well first off Sammy, I think we're dealing with more than one ghost. And secondly, I'm not really sure," Dean answered sardonically.

"Okay, so the _ghosts_ are pissed about this fire right? They were trapped on the top floor… and burned to death. Why are they attacking the renovators? And how are the bodies disappearing?"

"No idea Sam. But I think we should probably go find out," Dean smiled as he turned to walk towards the nearest door. All of the doors and windows were heavily boarded shut and locked. No way in.

"Damn, looks like we're gonna have to get creative" Dean muttered. "Can you hoist me up to that ledge?" he asked Sam as he motioned to a point just below a partially broken window.

"Uh, yah probably- but how am I gonna get up?" Sam replied mockingly.

"I'll pull you up."

"Right…"

"Look Sam, do you see any other options?"

"Ok, ok don't get your panties twisted," Sam laughed as he offered his linked hands towards Dean's foot. "Oh god…" Sam grunted as Dean heaved himself up using Sam's shoulder to balance the hand that wasn't reaching precariously towards the ledge. "You're heavier than you look."

"Are you calling me fat?" Dean managed as he gripped the edge of the window and wiggles his legs up to perch on an abutment below it.

"No, just big-boned," Sam teased while flexing his fingers, sore from bearing his brother's weight.

"You know what bitch?" Dean jeered from his crouched position. "Find your own way up." And he promptly pulled himself through the cracked window, disappearing from Sam's view.

"Dean! You asshole! Get back here and pull me up!"

"Sammy quit your belly-aching and give me your hand," Dean popped out the window laughing.

Sam jumped to grab onto Dean's outstretched hand and promptly pulled his long legs up, swinging to catch Dean's other hand. With a grunt of effort Dean swiftly pulled Sam through the window and both brothers landed in a heap on the floor of the 2nd story.

"We can definitely deduct some for the landing," Sam chided as he helped Dean to his feet.

"Yeah, well next time you can climb up and I'll sit and twiddle my thumbs and wait to be pulled up," Dean griped while rubbing his shoulder, grimacing.

"Oh, shit Dean- I forgot about your shoulder. Are you alright?" Sam hurried to Dean's side, all joking gone, absorbing the role of protective brother.

"Its fine Sam, just a little sore," Dean mumbled managing to keep the bitter retort that he so naturally flung out everytime Sam mothered him.

Sam realized Dean's repression and smiled slightly, turning to survey their surroundings. "Well, it's definitely dusty in here, I think the floors are rotting away, better be caref…"

But Sam never finished his sentence for just as he stepped the floor beneath him gave out and he disappeared from view.

"SAM!" Dean yelled as he scrambled towards the hole in the floor and peered down. "Talk to me!"

There was no answer.

**A little short… and ooo some drama! lol. Well as always thoughts, comments are wanted and enjoyed. **


	5. Chapter 5

"Sam!" Dean's shout echoed through the building, bordering on frantic. "Are you okay?"

"Yahhh…," came the faint response. "Just peachy."

Dean laughed with relief, "Did you break anything?"

"Does my ass count?" Sam muttered angrily. "Hey Dean, I think I found one of the renovator's cells."

"Yeah? Is there a staircase anywhere around you?"

"Umm yah… it'd be across to your left," Sam answered as he gingerly stood rubbing his bruised behind.

"Great, down in a sec," Dean's voice called from somewhere above.

Seconds later, Dean had reached Sam and taken the cell phone, after slight protest from a dusty and disgruntled Sam.

"Eureka, a text message," Dean declared proudly.

"Are you serious? What does it say?" Sam asked peering over Dean's shoulder, easily because of the extra 4 inches.

"'Something's wrong, send help'… what are the chances of that? Lucky break Sammy- good thing you feel through the floor," Dean jibed as he brushed off Sam's debris littered back.

"Yeah, I know I'm thrilled. And maybe in 4 hours when I'm icing my ass, I'll look back at this moment in fond remembrance," Sam griped as he shuffled towards the stairs.

"Ya know what man? I think I'm rubbing off on you. You're sounding more and more like me every day."

"Great, it's something I've aspired to all my life," Sam mumbled.

The brothers turned and looked at each other and suddenly broke into laughter, both realizing the unexpected role reversal. Dean slapped Sam's shoulder as he walked by and led the way back up the stairs.

"So where do we start? We know at least this guy knew they were dealing with something supernatural," Sam theorized as he brandished the cell phone.

"Yep, and I think the best place to look is on the top floor. I mean, that's where the fire started right?"

"Dean, I've been thinking… if these are ghosts or demons that are potentially burning their victims, you don't think it's what killed Mom right?" Sam asked tentatively.

"No Sam, I don't think it's the same thing. Something a lot more big time than these ghosts killed Mom," Dean sighed looking at Sam tiredly.

The boys stood at the top floor silently; both lost in thoughts of their never-ending quest and their tireless duties.

"Well, we got work to do," Dean exhaled. "Let's get er' done."

**Sorry it's short, I've been swamped with stuff: piano, school etc. Comments are welcome! Hope ya'll enjoy.**


	6. Chapter 6

The two brothers trudged up the rickety stairs which led to an old door that creaked when Dean slowly pushed it open. The attic of the hospital was dusty and dark with long lengths of timber criss-crossing beneath the ceiling, still sturdy after so many years. The room was empty save for a young woman with wild hair kneeling in the corner. Dean and Sam exchanged looks- was she the ghost?

"Umm, ma'am?" Dean questioned the still figure, rigid with her back to the boys. Dean lifted his shotgun and paced several steps forward. "Could you turn around ma'am? I just wanna see if you're a ghost," Dean muttered as he quickly placed his hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Ahh," Dean yelled in surprise as he lost his balance and fell backwards, the shotgun going off with a loud thunder that shook the rafters. The woman had turned her head with startling speed to stare at Dean with wild eyes, and a face all but burnt off. Her features dripped from the bone as if made of wax that had been molded cruelly.

"Dean," Sam called as he ran to Dean's side, quickly helping him to his feet. The ghost now stood in front of the two boys, staring, her arms straight at her sides.

"You shouldn't have come here," she whispered scathingly.

"Well we can't just let you kill people, can we?" Dean smirked. "We wouldn't be fulfilling our civil duty."

"Too bad. And now you'll have to die," the ghost replied as she turned to stare out the window at the moonless night.

"You see I have a bit of a problem with that. I don't really feel like dying today, how bout you Sammy?" Dean mocked as he turned smiling towards his brother.

"No, can't say that's on the top of my list of things to do today," Sam replied smartly.

"Good, well we're decided. So I guess that means that you'll just have to die," Dean growled as he brought the shotgun up and fired.

The shell left a large hole in the stomach of the ghost but still she stood and now faintly smiled.

"Yah, well I didn't really expect that to work," Dean mumbled.

"Now, it's my turn!" she screamed and with a wave of her arm the whole room was on fire. The flames leapt all around Dean and Sam as they frantically searched for a way out.

"Well this sucks!" Sam shouted as he repeatedly fought back flames with his coat.

"Yeah, thanks for the update!" Dean infuriatingly grunted, while slapping at his sleeve that had momentarily caught fire.

"Look, the only way we're gonna get out is the fire escape," Sam yelled pointing across the room to the ladder descending from the window behind the flaming, cackling ghost.

"Yeah okay, but first we gotta get past that psycho," Dean agreed looking with some trepidation at the fire baring their path.

"We're gonna have to make a run for it, or we'll be stuck," Sam said as he tensed, readying himself to dash through the flames.

"Alright on 3, 1…2…3! Go!" Dean screamed as he sprinted after Sam towards the window and their escape. Just as they reached the window, the ghost realizing that they were about to escape, reached to grab Sam in her fiery embrace.

"Don't touch my brother, bitch!" Dean roared as he flung himself into the ghost, at the same time as he pushed Sam through the window to safety. Sam hurtled feet first through the window and landed harshly on the platform of the fire escape. Crying out in pain from what was most certainly a broken leg, Sam turned just in time to see the ghost throw his brother with an explosion of fire, headfirst out the window and plummet to the ground.

"NOOO! DEAN! Sam screamed as tears from pain both physical and emotional streamed down his cheeks.

Dean's body lay sprawled on the ground at an ungodly angle…. there was no way he could be alive.

**So… okay? Maybe? Perhaps? Lol…. I'd love to hear comments.**


	7. Chapter 7

Sam half crawled, half fell down the fire escape while periodically shouting Dean's name in a state of the utmost panic. Once he reached the ground he dragged himself to the body that his mind would not accept as his brother's.

"Dean…" Sam cried weakly as he reached to turn him over, his fingers frantically searching for a pulse. Dean's face and body were covered in cuts and burns and blood was gushing from a gash in the back of his head.

And there was no pulse.

Utterly overwhelmed, Sam rocked, his head in his hands, tears now flowing freely. He couldn't accept it, would not accept it. Dean his brother, the ever-resilient, the immortal hero, was lying dead beside him and his world was breaking. Fractioned shards of memories, of green-eyed smiles, and witty aphorisms, pierced Sam's heart and left him broken. When no tears were left, Sam still sat, staring, grasping Dean's hand as if for dear life. In the east, the sun was rising, the blood-red sky complimenting the scene to perfection.

"Sam," came a soft voice from behind him.

Sam turned and saw his mother and found himself laughing at the realization that he was going crazy.

"Sam," she whispered as she kneeled and placed her hand on his shoulder. Sam was immediately filled with a warmth, a completion that couldn't be unreal.

"Mom?" Sam managed as he wiped his eyes with the hand not holding Dean's. "Are you really here?"

"Oh honey," his mom sighed as she turned from Sam's wide-eyed question to gaze at her eldest son, gone too soon. She reached to grasp Dean's other hand with her left and held Sam's with her right. The three Winchester's creating a circle, of love and loss.

"Mom, why did he die? Why did he save me? Why…" Sam sobbed as she cut him off.

"Sam stop. This is not your fault. Your brother saved you because he loved you. Don't question what you know is simple and true."

"Mom, but why are you here? Why can I see you?" Sam queried confusedly.

"Sam I am here to help you."

"What? How?" Sam couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice.

"There is a way to alter the situation," she explained softly.

"What? You mean I can save Dean?" Sam asked jerking his head quickly towards Dean as if expecting to see his chest rise and fall with breath.

"Sam, all you have to do is wake up."

"Wake up? I am awake Mom," Sam answered angrily.

"No Sam," she replied now placing Dean's hand down gently and letting go of Sam's as she rose to stand. "Wake up."

"Mom wait!" Sam yelled to the now fading figure that was his mother. "Wait! Please! I have to save Dean!"

She was gone. And Dean was dead. And he was alone.

Wake up? What did that mean? "I AM AWAKE!" Sam stood and screamed at the sky. He screamed till he fell in pain from his leg and exhaustion. He dragged himself till he was next to Dean and he lay down his hand once again fiercely clasping Dean's. "I am awake…" he muttered till his eyes fluttered and he slowly fell into black.

**Don't worry! There is a twist next chapter, I promise. Feel free to share thoughts…!**


	8. Chapter 8

Sam dreamt of Dean. His easy laugh, his cocky smirk. Dean singing along to ACDC while driving his precious Impala; the love of his life.

Sam dreamt of Dean. Pushing him out of the way. Saving his life. Again. And again.

His mind struggled against itself, he tossed and turned, his mind reeling. Flashes of Dean falling, his own scream, his Mom… Mom? She had told him to wake-up. Wake-up? Wake-up…

"Wake-up! Hey Sammy, wake-up!"

"What…?" Sam cried sitting up too fast.

"Sheesh, I thought you were gonna kill us, you were swinging your arms all around- I almost drove off the road," Dean laughed from behind the wheel.

"Dean…? What… how?" Sam stuttered, staring disbelieving at his brother, alive in front of him.

"You okay man?" Dean asked a look of concern pervading his green eyes. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yeah…" Sam sighed shaking his head. The most vivid nightmare yet; he had basically lived it. Slowly the realization that it had all been a dream, that Dean was alive and next to him, sunk into his consciousness and with a joy he hadn't experienced in months, Sam broke into a brilliant smile and slapped Dean on the shoulder exclaiming; "Yep, just a nightmare."

"Haha… ouch," Dean laughed rubbing his shoulder. "I'm glad that you're in such a terrific mood, but watch the arm man."

"Oh yah, your arm!" Sam practically laughed. "I forgot!"

"Umm… Sam? Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"I'm fine… actually I'm great." Sam smiled and sat back contented in his seat. "Why don't we crank the tunes." Sam exclaimed reaching for the radio dial.

"Okay, now I know you're not alright," Dean chuckled as he disbelievingly watched his little brother bob his head along in time with Metallica blaring.

"So where we headed?" Sam asked imploringly.

"What do you have amnesia? We're going to Michigan. Traverse City. Remember the mental hospital gig?" Dean replied gazing at Sam incredulously.

"What! No Dean we can't go there…" Sam practically yelled as he frantically realized what was happening.

"Chill Sam. It'll be fine We've already gone through this remember? Don't shoot me and we'll be fine," Dean smiled, everything always a joke.

Sam opened his mouth to argue but then leaned back and turned to stare out the window, his hand grasping his forehead. No… he wouldn't let Dean die. Not again. He would save him. Dean's not gonna die, Sam told himself fiercely…

Not while I'm around.

**Had to update… lol. I couldn't live with Dean being dead for too long. Hope you guys like it…! please review.**


	9. Chapter 9

The night played out just as in Sam's dream, but with subtle changes such as when Sam avoided the rotted middle of the floor so as not to suffer the painful shock of falling through a floor. Sam was far more reserved and quiet than the Sam of his dream; laughing and joking with Dean- but there was no joking now. Sam was deep in his thoughts and Dean, conscious of Sam's mood kept silent as well. Sam had made up his mind to save Dean. So when the room burst into flames and Dean motioned towards the fire escape and began to run, Sam ran after him, completely decisive of his course of action. Stretching as if in slow motion, Sam pushed Dean out the window just as Dean has pushed him in his dream. Dean crashed through the window and landed awkwardly on the platform. Sam turned to face the flaming ghost and flinched in preparation for the fall he knew lay before him. The explosion was deafening and then Sam felt himself falling, he hit the window and it shattered and suddenly he was flying, flying through the air and…

"Gotcha," came the grunt as Sam looked up startled to find Dean hanging off the fire escape with his hand firmly grasping his own.

Dean carefully pulled Sam up onto the fire escape and then sat back exhausted replied "What were you doing tryin' to be the hero? You know that's my role."

Sam stunned and sitting next to Dean, slowly shook his head and smiled. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"Well c'mon," Dean groaned as he pushed himself to his feet and stretched his hand out to help Sam.

Sam grabbed Dean's hand and realized that it was alright. Dean was alive. They both were alive. Grinning with the thought Sam walked beside Dean back towards the Impala.

"So, what about the ghost? We didn't really get rid of her…" Sam questioned thoughtfully.

"Well, actually when you were flying out the window, I saw her fly out too. I think that all she really wanted was to be free. And I guess breaking the window freed her." Dean slowly replied.

"Well I for one am glad. I've had enough fire and ghosts for one day," Sam happily asserted while walking to the passenger-side door.

"Yeah, me too," Dean muttered with a strange look spreading over his face.

"Dean?" Sam asked anxiously, walking over to his all-too pale brother who was holding the door for support. "Are you okay?"

And then Dean fell.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he lunged to catch his brother. "Dean, talk to me," Sam ordered as he half-held his brother and sunk to the ground.

"Shit…" Dean managed as his hands groped at his jacket.

"Dean? What… Oh my god…" Sam gasped as he watched Dean's hands pull back his jacket to reveal a massive shard of glass buried halfway in his abdomen. There was blood everywhere and Sam felt the release of tears sting his eyes.

"How did that get there…?" Dean murmured as his eyelids fluttered and he gave-in to black.

"Dean…? No… okay… c'mon… talk to me… you're gonna be okay…" Sam frantically babbled as he reached for his cell phone and frantically dialed 911.

"Hello? Please send an ambulance… I'm at the State Hospital grounds… my brother, he's really hurt… umm, there's glass… he's bleeding… please hurry…"

…please…hurry…

…please…

Sam gasped for air as sobs wracked his body. He laid his head back against the car and rubbed his forehead with his bloody hand. Dean's blood. Everywhere. He heard sirens in the distance. The ambulance was almost here. He found himself relaying this information to Dean, but Dean couldn't hear him. "Because Dean's dead," a voice in his head told him but he refused to believe it. He could still feel Dean's chest rising and falling beneath his hand that kept as much pressure on the wound as possible. Dean was breathing. He was still alive. He was okay.

But for how long?

**Sorry, lol… I'm hurtin Dean again, but I promise it'll all be good in the end. Comments, thoughts are appreciated as always. Oh and by the way, the song at the beginning of Chapter One is actually from the musical Sweeney Todd, it's called "Not While I'm Around." It's a good song and I thought it really exemplified the brother's relationship. So check it out! **


	10. Chapter 10

Sam's mind reeled. Everything up until now; where he sat in the waiting room was a blur. He vaguely recalled when the paramedics arrived and they had to push him out of the way- then realizing he was in no condition to drive, allowed him to ride along. Then Dean's heart had stopped and they had to resuscitate him… three times before they could cease the ventricular fibrillation.

And now. Now Sam was sitting in the waiting room. The room where he was waiting. Waiting because he couldn't scream and break things and lose his mind like he wanted to. So he waited.

Eventually a doctor approached him. She surprised him. She looked more like a kindly grandmother than the sterilely separated individuals that most often greeted people in these situations on TV and in movies, and told them that their wives, or fathers or….brothers were dead. Sam didn't stand. He couldn't. Instead he stared into the warm eyes of Dr. Wagner, as she identified herself, and waited.

"Mr. Burkowitz," she started, startling Sam who hadn't remembered his false identity.

"It's Sam. How is he?" Sam managed as he cleared his throat and prayed.

"The glass pierced your brother's aorta. There was significant internal damage which led to his heart stopping. We were able to resuscitate him and intubated him to help him breathe. Sam, your brother is in very critical condition I'm afraid. I'm sorry, but there's nothing more we can do," Dr. Wagner sighed as she truly looked sorry and placed her hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Are you telling me he's going to die?" Sam croaked as he fought to fight back the tears that he had been certain were out of supply.

"No, I'm not telling you that. There is always hope. All we need is a little faith."

"Hope and faith aren't exactly words that pertain to my brother's life," Sam scowled as he stood. "May I go see him?"

"Yes Sam, you may. But don't be alarmed by all the tubes. They are just IV's but they can be a little shocking," Dr. Wagner cautioned as she turned to direct Sam down the hallway.

"Thanks," Sam muttered as Dr. Wagner opened the door that led to where his brother lay unconscious and breathing through a machine.

Sam's feet walked him into the room where his mind and heart refused to go. His eyes stared stonily at the person that had stolen his brother's face and was lying so still and so pale, with tubes down his throat and sticking out of his arms. In the corner a heart monitor beeped… slowly. Too slowly. The scene was familiar; it hadn't been that long since Sam had seen this same sight- but Dean had been okay and conscious and even joking. Now Dean was silent.

Sam slowly made his way to a chair that had been conveniently placed to the right of the bed, and sat down heavily. He glanced out the window to avoid looking at Dean and thought about how the heavy fog outside was fitting for the way he felt. Finally Sam turned to look at Dean. Truly look. He saw eyes closed, pale skin and eyebrows furrowed as if his brother were concentrating… or in pain. Toying briefly with the idea of embarrassment if his brother woke-up, Sam slowly reached to hold Dean's hand. It was cold to the touch and completely un-lifelike. Sam placed his other hand over it, sandwiching Dean's hand in a futile attempt to keep it warm. Sam surprised himself when he started to talk.

"Hey, I don't know if you can hear me but… well, you need to wake up okay? This really sucks dude, I don't really like hospitals and I know you don't so why don't you get better so we can leave," Sam rambled until he realized that silent tears were streaming down his face and puddling on Dean's shoulder.

"Ah shit," Sam muttered as he wiped his face and sniffled. "Dean look. You're my brother okay? You're all that I've got. So you need to be okay…. I miss your mullet-rock… and your stupid jokes. So please hang on," Sam allowed himself to cry.

Sam leaned down to rest his head on the side of the bed next to Dean's arm. His eyelids fluttered with overwhelming exhaustion and he found sleep pulling him under.

"I love you man," Sam exhaled as he fell deep into sleep.

**Alright guys… I hate to do this but, I'm going on Spring Break for a week so I won't be able to update for a while. But it'll be okay, it'll give me time to be creative and contemplative on where this is gonna go next- because I don't really know yet. But I hope you like the chapter and as always comments are welcome. **


	11. Chapter 11

Sam vaguely shifted in and out of waking consciousness, his sleeping mind assaulted with various visions replayed in his mind. Dean was on the ground- blood everywhere- fire- the ghost cackling and then he saw himself falling, the ground rushing towards him and just as he could taste his demise…

…he awoke to movement under his arm and Dean's raspy voice; "Dude, you're drooling on my arm."

"Dean! You're awake!" Sam exclaimed as he pushed himself to a seated position and rubbed his eyes as if he disbelieved what they saw.

"Either that or we're both dead," Dean managed as he began to cough; a weary cough that shook his whole body and brought blood to the corners of his mouth.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam anxiously leaned in towards the bed with a pained expression on his face.

Dean's face easily displayed to Sam that he was about to utter the always-available "I'm fine," but changed with a fit of coughs and then to Sam's horror gasped; "Actually I'm having some trouble breathing…" before falling into more heart-wrenching coughing.

"Dean, I'm gonna get the Doctor," Sam worriedly shouted, as he ran frantically into the hallway and began to yell wildly for Dr. Wagner.

"Sam," Dr. Wagner called as she hurried to his side, "What's wrong?"

"My brother, he's awake, but he's coughing-up blood… I think something's wrong."

"Dean?" Dr. Wagner gently called as she strode swiftly to the bedside and reached to examine his condition. "Are you having trouble breathing?"

"Yeah…" Dean wheezed as beads of sweat formed on his pale temples.

"Okay well, it seems that the internal bleeding is still excessive. I see no other option than to operate," Dr. Wagner whispered as she led Sam to the far side of the room.

"What? Surgery?" Sam frantically replied while nervously running his hand through his thick brown hair.

"Sam. Without the surgery I see no chance of your brother's survival. The aorta needs to be repaired. It is a technical operation, but really our only shot," Dr. Wagner calmly stated as her hand reached to steady Sam's trembling arm.

Behind them several nurses were tending to Dean; placing an oxygen mask over his mouth adjusting his IV's. Sam's mind raced and he found himself obsessively biting his nails, a bad habit he hadn't resorted to since the age of 13.

"Can I have a moment?" Sam asked, his pleading eyes glistening with fresh tears.

"Of course, I will return in few minutes to hear your decision," Dr. Wagner sadly smiled as she exited the room followed by the nurses.

Dean was now faintly breathing with the assistance of oxygen, the heart monitor beeping slowly, again no movement.

"Dean?" Sam called weakly as he sat once again at the bedside. Dean's eyes peered intensely into Sam's own and Sam was relieved to find him still conscious and responsive.

"Dr. Wagner wants to operate to repair your aorta, I guess it's damaged," Sam started softly while fingering a hole in his jeans. "She says it's risky… I don't know…"

"Sam," Dean grunted after pulling off his oxygen mask, "I'll take the surgery."

"I know," Sam grimaced as he reached to replace Dean's mask, "But you gotta come out of it okay?"

Dean gave a dim smile and replied with a thumbs up, his eyelids fluttering with exhaustion from the effort of movement.

"Okay," Sam mumbled, forcing a smile onto his face he reached to squeeze Dean's hand- not caring of embarrassment or any such notion.

Sam rose to greet Dr. Wagner who he was surprised to find standing in the doorway watching him.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she started, "Your brother and you have a strong bond."

"Yeah, we do," Sam said, "And he wants the surgery so I guess you've got the go-ahead."

"It's the right choice, Sam," Dr. Wagner declared as a nurse and attendant moved towards the bed, first lowering Dean and then starting towards the hallway. "There's a more private waiting room on the third floor by the ICU," Dr. Wagner continued as she led Sam into the hallway following the gurney.

"Thank you… for everything," Sam answered as he slowly turned from the hospital hallway, from Dr. Wagner's sincere face, from the gurney that bore his brother towards surgery and walked out of the hospital.

**Comments? Questions? Reviews are terrific….!**


	12. Chapter 12

Sam was surprised a half-hour later to find himself sitting in a dirty bar, alone except for several ner-do-wells whose life's commitment was to drink at 3 in the afternoon. Sardonically laughing to himself, Sam realized that this was much more Dean's thing than his- he could easily picture his brother handling the situation by knocking back a couple of beers; but Dean wouldn't be nearly as affected. Sam was a light-weight and already on his third bud, he was starting to feel uncharacteristically impulsive and moody.

Anger was the main emotion coursing through his veins. His past couple days had been filled with a constant cycle of confusion, fear and overwhelming grief- but he had since used those sensations up. Now was the time for inexplicable rage at the fates that had left his older brother- best friend and protector- unconscious on a hospital bed while doctors performed a "technical" operation that would most likely end in his death.

Sam slammed his empty beer bottle on the bar which warranted several annoyed glances, threw his money down and stalked angrily out to the car. He broke speed limits all the way back to the hospital, occasionally swerving over the center-line; both from intoxication and his livid emotion. After carelessly parking, Sam stumbled into the hospital and soon found himself sitting in the ICU waiting room, engulfed with intense nausea. Sam didn't now if his sudden desire to kneel in front of a toilet was from his drinking or from the rapid realization that he would soon find out if Dean was dead or alive.

When Sam saw Dr. Wagner walking towards him, he attempted to get up, but great waves of dizziness insisted that he remained seated. Instead Dr. Wagner sat next to him and placing her hand on his arm, told him that Dean was…

"…fine and resting."

And then Sam threw-up.

After he had gotten over the shock of complete humility, thrown-up half his stomach and had apologized to both Dr. Wagner and the poor, old janitor whose duty it was to clean his mess, Sam found himself standing in the doorway of the private room where Dean was sleeping.

Sam was utterly relieved to note that there was color back in Dean's face, and his expression was not one of pain but contented slumber. Sam found himself smiling for the first time in days and almost giddy with the effect had to fight back a laugh so as not to wake Dean. Joyfully, Sam plopped down in the seat next to the bed and waited.

Waiting this time was not nearly as excruciating an experience as last time. This time Sam waited for Dean to wake, for green-eyed smiles and witty aphorisms and maybe even the mullet-rock. Eventually Sam fell asleep- he had planned on waiting, wide-awake to experience Dean's revival first-hand but his lack of sleep had caught-up to him and soon enough he was tilted precariously, snoring rapturously.

Dean awoke to what his drug-addled mind perceived as some sort of truck or perhaps a vacuum cleaner creating an extreme ruckus. Blinking back hours of sleep and body-wrenching pain, Dean discovered his little brother Sam- not so little anymore by the fact that he was hanging half-off a chair- and snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Well, it had woken him anyway.

"Sam," Dean croaked before realizing that a clearing of his throat was in order. "Sammy," he repeated more clearly and watched as his brother startled and slipped right of the chair onto the floor.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed as he discovered Dean's resurgence.

"I didn't wanna wake you, but you were falling off," Dean laughed and coughed in turn.

"Are you okay?" Sam anxiously asked, once again fearing that the coughing was a bad sign.

"Sammy, I just had heart surgery- I don't think a little coughing is a cause for alarm," Dean smiled his brilliant smile that Sam had truly missed. Sam returned the smile with one of his dimpled-own and dragged his chair closer to Dean's bed.

"Don't ever do this to me again man," Sam griped. "Not only did I have to practically live in the hospital, I just made the biggest fool of myself by getting drunk and puking all over the waiting room."

Dean's laugh/cough continued for what seemed hours as Sam sullenly watched on attempting to smile. "I can't believe you threw-up!" Dean gasped before calming himself and looking at Sam.

"But you know you missed me too."

"Yeah, I did," Sam admitted easily, glad that Dean was off of the throw-up story.

"Look, I'll make it up to you," Dean chided, gently punching Sam in the arm.

"How?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Well, how bout you get to drive and pick the tunes on the way out of here," Dean answered slowly with a smile.

"Alright, you got yourself a deal," Sam joined in the smiling and reached out to grasp his brother's hand in a firm and emotion-filled handshake.

_A week later…_

"Thank God I'm out of that hospital," Dean complained as Sam helped his still injured body into the passenger side door. "I thought I was gonna die of boredom."

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," Sam laughed as he plopped down in the driver seat and reached for the radio dial.

"So what are we listening to?" Dean prodded cautiously.

"Oh, you'll see," Sam answered with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

_Two hours later…_

"Sam, I swear I'm gonna kill you!" Dean yelled as he banged his head miserably against the car window. "This was not part of the deal!"

Sam just laughed and continued to sing along at the top of his lungs …

"_IF YOU WANT TO... I CAN SAVE YOU… I CAN TAKE YOU AWAY FROM HERE…! SO LONELY INSIDE… SO BUSY OUT THERE…AND ALL YOU WANTED WAS SOMEBODY WHO CARED!_

"God, I love Michelle Branch!" Sam howled as he laughed at Dean's disgruntled countenance.

"Yeah? Well I hate you!" Dean yelled back…

…and the Impala raced down a rain-slicked road, bearing two brothers sharing a bond that couldn't be broken, headed towards the next gig, the next town, the next day.

_-End-_

_**So what do ya think? It's finally done. It's been fun- maybe I'll write again sometime… hope you all enjoyed!**_


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